Unsettlingly Clear
by xXEnergizerBunnyXx
Summary: The abuse Ryoma suffers has almost broken her, more so than the absolute blackness a car crash left her sight in ever could. And with no one to help her, what will she do? FemRyo X Not sure yet
1. Prologue

_Disclaimer: Although I find these incredibly pointless, I would like to point out that I do not own any of the characters featured in the original series, nor do I own any of the locations mentioned in said series._

_Okay, I know I shouldn't start a new Prince of Tennis story when I am still writing my other one, but I have had this terrible plot bunny in my head for days, and I needed to get it down! And I figured, if I was going to write a story, why shouldn't I post it? So for any of my Ace Princess fans, please don't eat my face! I just don't have that much motivation for my other story, and am hoping to get some of my enthusiasm back with this story. It is almost summer, so hopefully I will have some time then to really work on my stories._

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_**~Prologue~**_

As she sat in the dark corner she had grown so accustomed to, hunching over a surprisingly well cared for stuffed animal, small whimpers could be heard coming from her mouth. The blows which had previously rained down on her, as unforgiving and constant as a raging storm, had long stopped, but the pain caused by those blows still remained.

After what seemed like hours for the small girl she was finally able to stand and drag herself to her small, threadbare room. With each step she winced, most likely due to the massive bruising along her spine, but she continued on with one hand gliding along the wall, as her other was still clutching her small stuffed animal, showing a stubbornness most people told her she had acquired from her father. That wasn't a very comforting thought, but she never told anybody that.

Shortly after having stood she found herself entering a familiar room. Having lived there for almost 9 months, she had quickly become accustomed to the feel, smells and sounds of her new home.

Making her way to her bed, feeling a deep exhaustion from that days beating, she stopped in front of where her mirror lay, leaning against the wall. She knew what could be seen there. A short, unhealthily skinny young girl, looking no older than 9 with limp black hair and clammy pale skin.

Opening her eyes, which she had not even realized she had closed, her lower lip quivered as she tried to hold back tears. Just as she had grown accustomed to over the past year, she was unable to see her own reflection, nor any other part of the room around her. But despite the blackness which had permanently shrouded her vision, she knew, without a doubt, that a pair of golden eyes, unsettling in their clarity, were staring back at her through the mirror. And without a doubt, the hopelessness she felt in her heart would be shining through them, proving that she had long since abandoned any thoughts of escape from the hell her life had descended into.

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_A/N Okay, so I know that was really short, but it is only the prologue. You should also notice that I never actually said who the girl was, but you should be able to guess from both the description and the summary of the story. If you haven't figured it out, then you should probably check with your English teacher for some remedial classes._

_Please review! I love to read all the things you guys say, and will make sure to reply to as many as I can!_


	2. Waking Up

_Well, here's the first real installment in my series, _Unsettlingly Clear._ I'm hoping that this will go farther than my last Prince of Tennis story. I hope you enjoy! _

_Started May 23, 2010_

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Early the next morning, before even the birds had begun chirping, the small girl sat up, wincing in pain as she felt some of her bruises, most new but some old, throb.

Setting down the stuffed animal she had held onto all night, which could now clearly be seen as a rather scruffy looking Himalayan cat, she stretched her arms above her head. A series of pops, followed by a sigh of relief, could be heard as she worked the stiffness out of her joints. This was one ritual she never failed to perform in the morning. Not only did it help to wake her up, it helped to alleviate some of the pain caused by her awkward sleeping positions she almost always found herself in.

Moving her head as if looking around the room, she stood up, making sure not to jar any of her injuries, and made her way towards where she knew her bathroom was. When she and her father had first moved in he had made sure she got her own bathroom, saying that he refused to share a bathroom with "such filth". That was one of the few things she could be thankful for.

Gliding her hand across the wall, a habit she had acquired after her accident only a year before, she felt where she had engraved her name in the soft wall. It had happened only a month after moving into the room, right after a particularly bad tongue lashing from her father. She had been afraid that she would forget her name, forget everything that she had been before her whole life had been taken from her. The mere thought had struck panic into her already abused heart. Feeling the words _Ryoma Echizen _engraved in her wall had become a permanent part of her morning routine.

Feeling the door to the bathroom under her hand, she turned the knob and stepped into the room, which to anyone else would be uncomfortable in its dark lighting. She instantly regretted it when she felt the cold tiles hit her bare feet, sending a shiver up her spine.

Turning on the shower she stripped and stepped under the warm water, reveling in the warmth that surrounded her. Showers and baths were some of the only things she could enjoy in her life, and so she made sure to never rush them. It was one of her sole beliefs that nothing should ever be taken for granted, no matter how small. The only time she ever rushed was when she was late waking up, and so had to hurry before Nanjiroh woke up and accused her of wasting warm water. It was one of the main reasons she almost always woke up exceptionally early.

Almost 30 minutes later she finally decided that she had gotten a sufficient amount of blood and dirt out of her skin and hair. Shutting the water off, she stepped out of the shower, wincing at the stark contrast between the warm water and the cold air. Quickly wrapping one of the towels she had placed in the bathroom around herself she stepped out of the small room.

Grabbing a brush she had set down on her dresser the day before she quickly brushed through her wet hair before opening the top drawer of the dresser. Pulling out a pair of underwear and a bra, she dropped her towel and quickly slipped them on. Then from the two drawers below that she pulled out a pair of black and white basketball shorts, an old pair that Nanjiroh used to own, which she identified by the feeling of the material. After that she pulled out a black wife beater, and layered it with a white tank top over it. She had received quite a bit of clothing, especially shirts, from friends that she had in America when she left; she made sure not to tell Nanjiroh.

Pulling her clothing on she brushed her hair one more time, noting that it was still completely soaked. With the water weighing it down, her hair went from slightly wavy to completely straight. With the added length it went to a ways down her back, but usually it only went to a few inches past her shoulder blades.

Pulling on a pair of plain white socks and her only pair of sneakers, which were black with white detailing, she stepped out of her room. As she shut the door she made sure to be quiet, as Nanjiroh could be quite cranky in the morning. And a cranky Nanjiroh meant a sore Ryoma.

As soon as she stepped into the kitchen she began gathering the necessary materials for breakfast. Despite her blindness, her familiarity with the room made it easy for her to find everything she needed.

She quickly began cooking, knowing, by the feel of the early morning sun on her face, that Nanjiroh would be awake within the next half hour. Getting him his breakfast in the morning often helped to stave off the worst of the physical beatings, at least temporarily.

Thankfully she finished breakfast only a minute before Nanjiroh stepped into the room, yawning and blinking away his tiredness.

As soon as he stepped into right and saw Ryoma his face darkened, though Ryoma herself couldn't see it.

Instead of giving his usual scathing remark, he simply sat down, ignoring where she sat eating only a small amount of breakfast. She could never seem to stomach any more, especially after particularly bad weeks, when he wouldn't allow her any food at all.

Only ten minutes later and Nanjiroh was done eating. Ryoma had been done for quite some time, but knew better than to say anything. Standing up, Nanjiroh said threateningly, "I'll be having some guests over to watch a tennis match, so either make yourself scarce or leave and don't come back until tonight." Then he walked out, not once looking back at his only daughter.

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_Finished March 22, 2011_

_I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I know that I took forever to post it, but no matter how many times I wrote it, I just couldn't seem to get it right. I finally decided that this was as good as it was going to get, and figured that you guys would appreciate it anyways!_


	3. Watch Where You Sit

A/N- Here's the next chapter. Sorry if it isn't very satisfying, especially after the long wait, but I figured a cruddy update would be better than no update! So please enjoy!

Disclaimer- I don't own Prince of Tennis or any of its characters. That's why it's called FANfiction.

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10 minutes after Nanjiroh had left the kitchen, Ryoma was finished cleaning the dishes she had used to cook, as well as the dishes that had been used during the meal itself. It was a task that she had been silently appointed with around the same time that she had begun cooking the majority of the meals. The only real exception was when Nanjiroh had other people over, in which case he usually had food ordered from a fairly high class establishment. He didn't want her to "infect" their food with her blindness.

Drying her hands on a towel that was hung on the oven handle, she slowly made her way back to her room. If Nanjiroh wanted her out of the house then she would leave; there was no reason to cause unnecessary anger if she were to make too much noise.

Once in her room she grabbed her collapsible cane, something that the hospital had insisted be bought for her, and put it in an old black side purse she had saved from one of her friends, who thought it was too old and "out of style" to be okay to use in public. With that done she headed back downstairs and to where she knew the front door was.

Without even glancing behind her, though it wouldn't have done any good anyways, or telling Nanjiroh that she was going out, she opened the door, stepped outside, and quietly shut it behind her.

Standing right outside the door for a second she thought about what she could do for the rest of the day. Being blind there weren't many options, so she finally decided to head the local park, where she could just sit and soak up the warm sun that she could already feel heating her body.

With that plan in mind she started on the fairly familiar path towards the park. Thankfully it wasn't too far, taking only 10 minutes to walk to, with minimal street crossings.

Half way through her trip she realized that she had yet to take out her cane, and decided that, with the minimal traffic occurring, it was unnecessary to pull it out now. She rarely needed it, and preferred to only take it out when going into a more populated part of town.

Not 5 minutes later and she could hear the telling sounds of children playing and parents chatting, signaling that she had arrived at the park.

Preferring to stay slightly off to the side she made her way towards where she knew to be a single bench off to the side of the grassy part of the park. It was also next to a small public tennis court that seemed to be fairly vacant most of the time, as far as she knew. She had only been there a few times, but during each of those visits she could only hear a few people in the area of the courts.

Reaching the bench she made to sit down only to hear a low, obviously male voice, say, "Excuse me."

Letting out a small, but nonetheless embarrassing, squeak, she quickly straightened back up, turned around and jumped back a step, trying to put distance between her and the man she had almost sat on.

She was mentally cursing herself as she felt her face heat up slightly. She knew better than to simply sit down; she had learned long ago to use senses such as sound and smell before sitting down, to avoid such situations as she was in now.

As soon as she fully realized what had just happened she felt a wave of fear flush through her body, telling her to apologize. Which is exactly what she did, with her head bowed and speaking rapidly. It didn't even register that she was speaking in English to a boy who, in all likelihood, only knew the basics of said language.

All she could think of was making sure that he knew that it had not been intentional, and that she was truly sorry. She wasn't sure what to do if he decided that a more physical punishment was needed for her stupidity. She quickly reassured herself that this was not Nanjiroh, but she kept apologizing; just in case. After all, it never hurt to be cautious.

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Tezuka Kunimitsu, just like almost every other morning, woke up earlier than anyone else in his house. And, much like he was known to do, started to make his way towards the local park. It was a place that he liked to go on the weekends, or on days off from school and tennis practice.

Looking around once he arrived, which only took about 15 minutes at a moderate pace, he quickly decided that the best spot was a single bench on the outskirts of the field, near the rather humble public tennis counts.

Making his way there he sat down and began watching the single tennis game that was going on in the courts. Despite the fact that both players, who were probably only 12, were clearly inexperienced at the game, Tezuka enjoyed watching them. Even an unskilled game could never be considered a bad one; after all, it was tennis. The only thing that could make a game of tennis bad is if cheating or sabotage was involved.

So lost in though was he that he didn't notice when a small girl approached. That is, he didn't notice until she almost sat directly in his lap.

Bewildered by this action he cleared his throat before saying, "Excuse me."

The girl gave a visible jump as she stood back up, turned around and backed up. Obviously she had been unaware of the fact that she was about to sit in a clearly occupied seat.

Tezuka felt the urge to laugh at the startled look on the girls face, but that urge quickly disappeared when he saw a look of complete terror cross the girls face before she bowed and began rapidly shooting off apologies. It took him a few seconds to realize that she was apologizing in English, making it slightly harder for him to follow her line of apologies. Thankfully he was fairly adept at the English language, and so he was able to discern most of it.

Finally deciding to stop the girl before she died of self-inflicted air deprivation, he firmly stated, "It's fine. It was an accident."

As soon as he spoke the girl seemed to remember herself, as she stopped speaking, and he could see her face flush slightly, despite her still lowered head.

Now that he wasn't trying to follow her words he was able to fully take in her appearance which, if he were to be honest, was slightly unusual.

She had long, dark hair, which seemed to glint green in the sunlight, along with a pair of bright, seemingly golden eyes that, despite their clarity, seemed to be slightly unfocused, roaming around as opposed to looking at one spot.

She couldn't have been more than five feet, 3 inches, making her more than a head shorter than himself. That wasn't what was so unusual, though. Most females, and males for that matter, were shorter than his height of a solid six feet.

No, what was unusual was the dark marks under her eyes, marking a lack of rest, and the bruises that seemed to litter her arms and legs, both of which were bared, most likely to try to stay cool in the warm summer days.

Choosing to ignore both for now, as they were none of his concern, he returned to looking at her face. The blush that had previously been there seemed to have receded, leaving her cheeks unnaturally pale, and her eyes continued to roam around, never focusing on any one thing.

Finally it clicked in his head: she was blind.

Mentally chiding himself for not having immediately discerning this, he said, "There's nothing to apologize for. No harm was done."

Despite the fact that her face never changed from its slightly worried expression, her body gave her away when it visibly relaxed.

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Ryoma felt her body relax, and she gave a silent sigh of relief. Though she knew that not everybody was like Nanjiroh, she couldn't help the skittishness that she felt around others. More specifically, the fear she felt around men.

Focusing her unseeing eyes on where she knew the boy to be, she said quietly, finally switching back to Japanese, "I really am sorry. I hadn't noticed that somebody was sitting there. I should have checked before sitting."

He shook his head minutely, despite the fact that he knew she couldn't see it, before saying, "It's no problem."

Finally smiling a little Ryoma replied, "I'm happy to hear it. My name's Ryoma Echizen. Or Echizen Ryoma, I guess it would be here. Nice to meet you…"

So obviously she wasn't from Japan, despite her Asian appearance. "Tezuka Kunimitsu," he filled in the blank, informing her of his name.

"Tezuka Kunimitsu," she repeated quietly before giving a slightly brighter smile.

Tezuka couldn't help but smile back, with just the slightest twitch of his mouth.

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A/N- I am so so so so so so soooooooooo sorry! My computer broke, so I've been using my NookColor to go on the internet for the past few months. I was finally able to access some of my files, though my computer is still unusable, so I immediately went to post this! Thank you to everyone that is reading this, as well as everyone who has patiently waited for this chapter!

I'm sorry if I seem kind of wishy washy with Ryoma's personality. I can't seem to get a grasp on exactly what type of personality I want her to have. If you have any suggestions, please leave me a review! Even if you don't have any suggestions, I still want you to review! I love hearing from you guys!


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